


After The Fourth

by Glacious_98



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:05:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10623204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glacious_98/pseuds/Glacious_98
Summary: In one world, Naruto emerged the victor. In another, Sasuke struck the decisive blow. In one world, the world knew of peace through forgiveness and friendship. In another, the path to peace was to be tempered by rebellion and revolution. In one world, the nations came together in an alliance. In another, the landscape was bathed in unholy crimson.Sasuke and Sakura Centric





	1. Chapter 1

A bloody stump was all that remained.

He staggered back onto his feet, swaying from side to side. Splotches of blood stained the dying grass red. Like ink blots, like crimson tears in memory of a long forgotten friendship.

Half his world had gone dark.

The left side of his face was a ruin: a mangled mush of burnt skin and broken bones, of torn tissue and an empty eye socket. The rinnegan was lost to him. Three angry gashes lay in its place, running from forehead to chin. Like the wrath of a wild animal. Like the fury of a friend forsaken for an ideal. But for all the damage to his once perfect face, the severed arm was worse. His left arm was reduced to a stub; a twitching wreck desiring to be whole again.

His head spun. He emptied the contents of his stomach, vomit mixing with the blood, red and white painting a grotesque portrait of human suffering at the Valley of the End. Spots danced at the edges of his lone eye; promising to take him away from the pain, from the heartache. He could feel the wind whispering in his ear. It spoke of dreamless sleep and an end to suffering. Darkness called. He was tempted to give in.

_Itachi._

The fog clouding his mind lifted. He couldn't lose. Not till he brought peace to the world. Not till he honoured his dead brother and fulfilled his ideal.

_Peace._

_To unite the world against a common foe through their shared hatred. To serve from the shadows through pain and suffering. To become the enemy even if it meant tearing his heart out. To become the enemy over the broken corpse of the only person who believed in him._

He looked towards the prone form of his best friend lying five feet away and closed his eye. A resigned sigh escaped his lips, a testament to his torment.

His face twisted in pain as he began to dredge up the meager remnants of his chakra. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek as lightning began to coalesce in his right hand.

_'I'm sorry, Naruto.'_

And the chirping of a thousand birds shattered the stillness of the dreary dusk.

* * *

When Sakura woke, her first thought was of Sasuke. Hagoromo had told her of his broken psyche and his empty heart. She had to find him. She had to tell him she still loved him. That her heart would always belong to him and that there would be no other. That she would gladly endure his thoughtless cruelty and his stone hearted barbs, because his actions spoke of love. Because she cared for him like no other and he made her heart race. Her soul throbbed for his affection. She longed to hear him laugh, to celebrate his happiness.

"Yo!"

Kakashi's voice brought her out of her musings. A tattered Jonin vest adorned his tired frame; a symbol of loyalty and of sacrifice. She looked around at the crumbling rocks and the desolate landscape.

"Sensei, where are they?" she asked, her heart sinking, fear beginning to course through her veins.

Kakashi shrugged.

"At the Valley of the End," he said, gesturing to the fiery flashes in the distance. Sakura looked up. Hashirama's gigantic statue stood in the distance, no longer tall, no longer proud. He was missing a head. Madara's bust was no longer to be seen, reduced to debris and dust in a clash of Demigods.

"Oh Gods, those idiots will kill each other," she whispered, horrified. Kakashi winked. He seemed far too chipper for someone whose students were murdering each other.

"Sakura, they'll come around," he said, confidence colouring his tone. "Naruto considers Sasuke his brother. And in spite of everything he said, Sasuke feels the same about Naruto. They're blowing off some steam."

"But-"

"Besides," and here Kakashi's posture sagged, his shoulders slumping in defeat, his tone going from upbeat to melancholy, "besides, we would only get in the way. We can only hope."

Tears moistened her eyelashes.

"Naruto will bring him back, won't he?"

"The will of fire burns in him. The fate of our nations, the peace we have worked so hard to create hinges on this battle. He won't let us down."

Through her tears, she smiled.

The flashes in the distance abated. The sounds of battle died out. She pulled herself to her feet, Kakashi by her side.

"Let's go and get them." she said, green eyes glinting in steely resolve. As one they moved, the signs of conflict flying by, their feet pattering against the unforgiving ground. They were near.

And then the world turned blue, as the telltale crackle of latent lightning reached her ears. Her eyes widened in horrified disbelief. She would recognize that jutsu anywhere.

They were too far away to do anything; to beat sense into him, to stop him.

"No, Sasuke!" she cried out. Kakashi quickened his pace, breaking into a desperate sprint. She wasn't far behind.

They were too late.

Naruto was on his knees, a choked gurgle escaping his lips, blood pooling around his feet; his hand weakly clawing at his heart. Or what was left of it. And beside him stood Sasuke; his obsidian eye glinting in the fading sunlight, his face colder than the Arctic winter chill and his right arm stained in the blood of the man he once called a brother. Cerulean eyes flitted in her direction, full of agony. And then with a final desperate gasp, he fell. A meter away. A lifetime away.

She stood frozen, too shocked to react, too shocked to utter a word.

_No._

She fell to her knees, years of medical training all washed away as her friend lay dead before her, murdered by the man she loved. She thought she heard Kakashi sob.

'Sensei crying; Sensei never cries. Naruto will be thrilled to hear this. Naruto would laugh at Sensei. Naruto will fix this. Naruto will- '

And then she screamed.

The last rays of the sun died out, taking away her hope and leaving behind the horrors of the night. Black as obsidian. Dark as his hair.

"Oh, Sasuke, what have you done?" Kakashi's voice cut through the silence. Dismayed. Tremulous. Wavering.

He didn't reply. He stood as still as stone, staring first at the body of the man he had slain, and then at his blood stained hand.

His lips quivered. His shoulders began to shake.

And then Sasuke Uchiha began to laugh.

It started out small, like a toddler giggling at an innocent ink blot. And then it got louder. And louder, till he was cackling hysterically, tears trickling down his face, the near empty valley echoing his mirthless despair.

She had wished to see him laugh.

Now Sakura knew she had never heard anything more terrible in her lifetime.


	2. Chapter 2

They had to carry him back to Konoha.

The trees flew by her, gentle and welcoming in spite of the dark. The shrubbery and the forests hadn't suffered through the horrors of war. They knew nothing of the price paid for a pyrrhic victory. So their boughs stood tall and unbowed, and the flowers bloomed in hope, happiness and innocence. The soil under her feet and the sky above seemed full of life. It was a time when men would return from the stone-hearted embrace of unforgiving battle to the warm comfort of their homes and their families. There would be tears of joy. Songs would be sung about life and valour and tales told of grit and gumption. The dead would be mourned and the living would weep in relief at having survived the ordeal. Friends would reunite. Lovers would give themselves unto the throes of passion. There would be happy endings. There would be new beginnings. There would be hope for a better world.

She stumbled, sleepwalking through the grisly night. She would have fallen if Kakashi hadn't reached out and caught her mechanically, years of instinct kicking in. His Jonin vest wept red; tainted with the blood of his student. Naruto's corpse was slung on his back, shuddering every-time he missed a step, moving every-time his feet hit uneven ground. If she tried hard enough, she could pretend Naruto was asleep and that his limp, jerky motions were a result of fatigue arising from shouldering the burdens of the world. That he would wake any moment and demand Sasuke treat Team Seven to a bowl or ten of Ichiraku's ramen. And Sasuke would smirk and grunt, seemingly brushing him off but secretly pleased all the same.

They were family. The ties they shared were forged through bloodshed and battle, through tears and suffering. Against Madara and then Kaguya, they had bled for each other. Naruto would've died for Sasuke, and Sasuke for Naruto. And she, for either of them. She had always believed them to be closer than blood, no matter what Sasuke said.

She had been wrong. And now, Naruto was dead and Sasuke slung across her shoulder like a porcelain ragdoll, passed out from blood-loss and chakra exhaustion. He'd collapsed after his hysterics, dead to the world, lost to his nightmares. She had done the best she could. She had saved his life. She wouldn't lose two friends on the same day.

But the scars would never heal. And Team Seven was gone forever. Nothing would ever be the same again.

"How much longer, Sensei?" she asked, puffy eyes almost as red as Sasuke and his accursed Sharingan. She could no longer remember how far Konoha was from where they were, her addled mind refusing to recognize a route she had traversed half her life.

Kakashi did not reply. He simply stared ahead, eyes empty. He looked like a man who had lived over a thousand lifetimes and lost everything a thousand times over.

The trees thinned as they moved, growing farther apart. Signs of civilization began to show. Massive mud walls lay in the distance. The guard towers and the gates were abandoned. Fireworks lit the night sky. News of their victory and the end of the war had no doubt already reached the village. Laxity was acceptable for the night. In celebration. In relief. In welcome.

Their joy would sour like curdled milk mere moments afterwards.

* * *

" _This is madness, Sasuke! There are some enemies you can't beat alone. Like Madara, like Kaguya!"_

" _An idiot like you will never understand. A Kage rules from the shadows. A patriot shoulders infamy for his nation and his ideals. He lives a life of thankless servitude without a single word in protest. Itachi taught me that."_

_"_ _Then you know nothing about Itachi! He didn't want you to-"_

_"_ _Don't speak about my brother as if you understand! The village still stands united due to his sacrifice. Your precious peace was built over the corpses of my clan, through the vilification of my brother."_

He woke in a cold sweat, his breath reduced to short, desperate bursts. It was dark. For half a second, he was tempted to dismiss it all as a bad dream. Then the pungent odor of poorly applied ointment tickled his nostrils. The left side of his face was heavy and uncomfortable. ' _Bandages',_ he thought. He tried lifting his left arm but it was no longer there. It had really happened, then. He had gone through with it.

He sighed. It was a harsh sound that seemed grating and unnatural to his ears. He tried channeling chakra to his eye. He failed. With a start, he realized he couldn't draw on his chakra. Pools of energy that had always seemed filled to the brim were locked away, sealed away.

_'_ _Wonderful.'_

His eye was beginning to adjust to the dark. He was lying on a spartan cot. The rags he wore were unfamiliar and smelly. It felt uncomfortable, but it was nothing worse than he was used to. He hadn't been royalty in five years. Being an international criminal had its benefits from time to time; discomfort and frugality were run of the mill for him.

He could barely make out the outline of a door that lay seven feet away. Locked, he presumed. When he was Seven and innocent, his brother had told him about the ANBU dungeons. They lay underground, a floor below Moreno Ibiki's torture chamber. He had listened wide eyed, full of wonder and reverence as Itachi had spoken of the place. ' _For the condemned,'_ he had said; ' _the condemned and the lowest of scum.'_

He supposed that he fit both those descriptions.

He sighed again. When the battle had started, he'd had no intention of killing the dobe. He had meant to beat him, maybe even humiliate him and then claim the hat and enforce his ideal of peace through extremism. He should've realized it wouldn't be that easy. His life never had been.

On some level, he knew there would be no escape this time. There wouldn't be a blond haired idiot in an orange tracksuit to speak for him and plead his case. He felt tired. His eyes felt heavy, as if they had been tied to lead weights. He couldn't think. He couldn't bring himself to care.

With his hand cradling his head, Sasuke fell asleep, dreaming of sunshine and sparkling teeth, and a hat that sat prim and perfect upon the brightest cluster of blonde hair he had ever seen.

* * *

Sakura couldn't sleep.

It had been three days since Naruto had fallen to Sasuke. Three days since they had dragged Sasuke back to Konoha, fulfilling a dream Naruto had held onto since he'd turned thirteen. With his last breath, he had helped bring his 'brother' back to Konoha.

She now wished he hadn't. She wished he had just given up on his stupid ideal and let Sasuke leave. She wished she could just fall asleep and trade away the grim nightmares of her reality for the tame ones of her mind.

But sleep wouldn't come, no matter how hard she tried. Every time she shut her eyes, that morbid scene would play over and over again in her head, unbidden and unwelcome. Like a broken tape recorder on repeat, mocking her inability to be of any use. _There was just so much blood._ She had seen Naruto bloody, before. She had even seen him beaten within an inch of his life. But he had always bounced back. He had always worn that stupid grin and his eyes always shone in mirth and vitality. She'd never seen him cold. Never seen him-

She dully wondered if she was beginning to lose her mind. She couldn't find Kakashi sensei. Tsunade shishou had taken one look at Naruto's body and shut herself in her office, refusing to speak to anyone.

She'd heard no word on Sasuke's fate. The ANBU had stripped him and then painted his body black with obscure seals. And then they had taken him away, not even bothering to administer anything beyond basic medical treatment. She couldn't blame them.

And despite all this, in spite of everything he had done, she still loved him.

She hated herself at times.

She opened her eyes and stared at the roof. Sunlight filtered through the parted curtains in her room. It was noon. Naruto would've been at Ichiraku's around this time, feasting away like a famished man falling upon food after a lifetime.

She heard the door open. Green eyes, every bit as bright as her own, stared at her in worry.

"Mother," she greeted listlessly.

"You have been in here forever, Sakura." said Mebuki tentatively.

"It wasn't to worry you. This isn't the best time to talk."

"Sakura, we're your parents. You can't shut us out like this. Please, let us help."

She felt her frayed nerves give. Her anger needed an outlet, no matter how undeserving or misguided.

"Can you bring back Naruto, mother? And what about Sasuke-kun? Can you turn him back into what he once was? " she spat out, vitriol in her voice. Her mother bowed her head, not answering.

Sakura closed her eyes.

"Let me mourn," she whispered, exhausted. "Please, just leave me be. It's the least you can do."

After a few tense moments, she heard the door close.

* * *

The rain fell in sheets, beating against her window in an unforgiving symphony. The sky flashed a brilliant blue, lightning breaking through the storm clouds. The mist hung heavy, swirling in eddies, blurring her vision of the streets outside. It had rained for hours now, and the rain seemed never ending, as if the heavens themselves were weeping in inconsolable agony.

Mei Terumi was glad Kirigakure had a decent drainage system, else the village would've been flooded before midnight. She did not need any more headaches to deal with.

"This is our opportunity, Mizukage- Sama! Do not let this go begging. Our army is still mostly intact. The other hidden villages are weak at the moment. Do not give into this fancy talk of peace and alliance. We must-"

She tuned him out, barely stifling a groan. A well manicured hand reached up and massaged her forehead, parting the auburn locks as it tried to soothe away the pain. She had heard that Tsunade drunk herself into a coma whenever the monotony of her meaningless appointments got to her. She oft wished she'd had the liberty to do the same. But Kiri was an unstable ruin, doddering on the brink of disaster at the moment and she was afraid her councilors (the fools) would find ways to start another war if she lost herself to the bottle.

She ground her teeth and brought down the full force of her massive killing intent on the idiot who had spoken out of turn. The councilman gulped, cut off mid rant, sweat soaking his silken robes. She supposed she should stop before he made a spectacle by shitting himself or fainting. Absently, she wondered if the rest of her council would even blink if she were to turn him into a shrieking pile of molten ash.

Probably not.

They were used to her behavioural quirks. And nothing surprised them after Yagura's bloody rule. She'd often wondered if it was the sheer stupidity and senility on display in the council chambers that had made him snap.

"Chojuro?" she said, her voice sickeningly sweet.

The swordsman scurried forward, like a lost puppy eager to please.

"Mizukage- Sama?"

"Behead the next idiot who speaks out of turn." That got their attention. They straightened almost imperceptibly, their postures going from a casual slump to ramrod erect; potbellies jiggling in a desperate attempt to appear interested.

"My men are weary," she began, bringing her fist down on the table, "we've fought as rebels for a decade and in a great war just four years after. Enough blood has been spilt in the name of our ideals. The people in this province starve as we quarrel. Our domestic foundations lie disorganized as you push for another war. Tell me, are your churlish words supposed to feed my army as we march? Are your childish rants supposed to inspire them to disturb the tentative peace we've just discovered? Are your filthy lies supposed to fill our empty coffers and fund this covert cold war you're so thoughtlessly advocating?"

She was met with silence. She could see that they wished to debate what she had said, but they were smart enough to realize she wasn't in a very forgiving mood.

"Isn't that right, Chojuro?" she asked, turning to the swordsman who had pledged away his life to protect her. He seemed unprepared for the question.

"It...it is as you say, Mizukage-Sama."

She felt her lips curl into a fond smile. Chojuro. So gentle, so shy. The perfect candidate to replace her as Mizukage when she decided to step down. When Kiri had entered the Fourth Shinobi war, she had hoped it would end in lasting peace and an alliance between the nations. She had hoped she could govern for a year or two after, and then pass on the burden to Chojuro; that he would be allowed to preside over a period of peace and prosperity. But that wasn't to be. They had won, but Uzumaki Naruto- war hero, poster boy for peace, future Hokage- had perished and he seemed to have taken all hopes of a lasting alliance with him. Like a fragile lamp being snuffed out by a colossal storm.

Where once the nations were willing to come together and work out their issues, they had now defaulted to an attitude of wary distrust. It was certainly far better than anything they'd had in ages. But it wasn't enough. Certainly not for lasting peace. She sighed. It had all looked so promising too. She had been looking forward to finally relinquishing the responsibility that the hat brought and settling down, maybe in matrimony and marital bliss. There had to be someone out there interested in her.

Now she would probably never get to meet that person. She couldn't just drop this entire mess on Chojuro's head and leave. He would be a splendid peace time Mizukage. But he'd be eaten alive at a time of brutal politicking and potential war. He was far too inexperienced.

So she would have to do what she had done since she'd turned ten. She would stifle her dreams and serve her village and her nation. She didn't have a choice in the matter.

She hated being a Kage.

* * *

A week might have passed, or maybe a month. He had no idea as to how long he'd been in the cell. When he had woken a second time, it had been to grief and self hatred. He had raged and savagely torn out tufts of dirtied hair, the clumps coated in grime and dried blood from the battle. They wouldn't let him wash himself. They let him out once a day to relieve himself, the bathroom a filthy stall about ten feet away from his prison. He wasn't allowed to take so much as a piss without being treated to a string of rancorous bile.

' _Bloody hypocrites',_ he would think wryly every time they did that. He could appreciate the irony. For thirteen years they had worshipped the very ground he walked on. It was always ' _Uchiha-sama'_ or ' _Uchiha-Dono_ '. For sixteen, they had treated Naruto like vermin, like some sordid shit-stain to be scraped off from the bottom of their boots. And now he was ' _fucking_ _bastard_ ' and ' _filthy freak not even worthy of a rusted kunai to the heart_ ', whereas Naruto was a war hero and a martyr, uniting Konoha in grief and mourning.

He smelt like a swine that had toured a gutter of shit and sludge. They wouldn't give him clean clothes either. His body felt as tainted as his soul. As his right hand that had done the deed and the phantom stains on it. If they'd had their way, he would have been stripped naked, stabbed in the gut and left in the Forest of Death to rot. It was good to know the honourable Lady Hokage drew the line somewhere.

Too bad she hadn't seen it fit to give them a specific set of instructions on prisoner treatment and propriety.

The door to his room burst open.

"Oye, arsehole!"

Sasuke didn't dignify that with a response. It seemed the universe itself hated him. It was the ANBU with the eagle mask, one of his two designated waiters. The revolting aroma of poorly cooked prison food filtered through the room. It was a terribly prepared combination of porridge and gruel and some other shit that he couldn't recognize. Yet, his mouth watered. His stomach rumbled. He had been treated to a single meal every two days.

The first time 'Eagle' had brought him a meal Sasuke had thrown the bowl against the bare stone wall in a fit of loathing and rage. Eagle had nodded sagely, smirked, and then proceeded to beat the living daylights out of him.

He hadn't done it again. Some things were far too humiliating to suffer through, even when in the throes of anger and angst. That hadn't stopped Eagle though. Oh, not at all. The burly man seemed to have taken it upon himself to make Sasuke miserable.

Eagle walked up to him and observed him clinically. And then he tipped over the bowl, spilling the tasteless meal all over Sasuke's rags. Brownish orange trickled down his clothes, onto his bare skin, mixing with the muck and the filth.

Sasuke didn't so much as twitch.

"Oops, my hand slipped," said Eagle, his voice laced with vindictive pleasure.

Sasuke sighed. The 'big, bad' ANBU were such a bunch of juvenile wankers. Two dimensional caricatures and petulant Moreno Ibiki wannabes littered their ranks. He wondered if Eagle had stood outside the cell for hours, fervently practicing that line like an over-hyped, underpaid actor desperate for work. He had probably skipped out on training to come up with that line. If this was the best Konoha had to offer, then no wonder they had nearly lost the fourth war. _Naruto would-_

He mentally grimaced. Thinking about Naruto left a sour taste in his mouth. Yet it was nearly reflexive. He had spent years using Naruto as an anchor and a yardstick; as a friend and a rival.

"Oye, don't ignore me, arsehole!"

He turned to look Eagle in the eye, his posture nonchalantly aristocratic, sole eye glinting in the dim lamplight, giving nothing away. His entire countenance showing nothing more than boredom. As if Eagle were some curious worm he had just happened upon. Like a scientist observing a defunct, particularly stubborn specimen.

"Hn."

Eagle leaned forward, meeting his judgmental stare.

"We should just do away with you right now, you little shit," he said ominously, "bash your skull in and leave your body for maggots and the vultures to feast on."

Sasuke was sure Eagle meant that as a threat. He was sure Eagle was attempting to posture himself as the ultimate white knight, dutifully saving the day and serving his Kage by beating up half starved, half dead prisoners. It took all his famed Uchiha restraint to not burst out laughing. As it were, he merely tilted his head, as if acknowledging that ridiculous statement.

"Remove this seal, if you dare," he began coldly, "and then we'll talk. And if you aren't screaming for mercy like a pre-pubescent little girl in under ten seconds, I'll drown myself in a toilet and let your ANBU mates pull the flush. Care to try your luck?"

They both knew he was right. But when men in power lose a verbal battle, they resort to violence. It was all so cliched. In retrospect, he shouldn't have provoked the ANBU. But it was all getting to him. The dirty, insect infested cell, the judgmental sneers, the blood on his hand and between his fingers…everything.

Eagle viciously rammed his fist into Sasuke's gut and it knocked the air right out of him. He could feel the hot, coppery, metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Without chakra to augment his stomach muscles, the punch hurt like a motherfucker.

Not a sound escaped his lips. In the confines of this shitty prison the pain brought along clarity. It helped him think. It reminded him of his ideal. It reminded him of Itachi and his clan, and of Naruto. He wouldn't die here. Not like this. Not in this shithole. And not with his purpose unfulfilled.

"Ah, I feel better already,'" chirped Eagle brightly. He waited for a response. He didn't receive one. Disappointed, he turned to leave.

"At least let me wash myself, you son of a whore." Sasuke ground out through clenched, blood stained teeth.

Eagle turned, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"Request denied…...Uchiha-sama. You smell like you ought to," he said, drawing out every syllable.

And then he left, content at having needled Sasuke into playing his little 'mind games'. Sasuke watched him leave. There was no time for angst and none for petty grudges.

He would get out of here and then the Elemental Nations would know peace.


	3. Chapter 3

The first rays of the morning sun peeked out of an orange sky like a gleaming, gold decked harbinger from the heavens, heralding the arrival of a new day.

The rays usually fell upon empty streets and silent outposts. The villagers of Konohagakure were usually asleep in those hours and the guards drooped and drooled in their vain and weary attempts to stay awake after having stood guard the entire night. Languid lethargy was usually the order of the day as early risers ,except a certain famed Green Beast or two in the throes of 'springtime of youth!', grouchily went about their business. It would take the village hours to wake and get into the hustle and bustle of daily routine.

But not today. Today, the village had violated humdrum. Today, Konoha had arisen from its slumber at the crack of dawn. A heavy cloud of poignant grief hung in the air as people- young and old, strong and weak, leaders and beggars- woke with a heavy heart and draped themselves in the plaintive colours of death and mourning.

The memorial was held when the clocks struck seven. The Hokage was nowhere to be found. No doubt nursing a colossal headache, or more likely, hidden away in some seedy bar at the outskirts of the village. So it was her assistant, Shizune, who said the prayers, moving verses of love and respect to honour the fallen. And then, one by one, the villagers came forward to pay their respects- in stoic silence- an occasional tear or two trickling down sunken, sallow cheeks and blurring their vision of the bright, blue eyed blond staring back at them in mirth and mischief from the centre of the memorial.

They came from all walks of life; Hyuga standing next to Akimichi, Aburame and Nara standing shoulder to shoulder, all amongst the midst of clan-less nobodies and ordinary people, united in their shared regard for the greatest shinobi Konoha had ever produced and the elemental nations had ever seen.

Sakura stood alone, some way away from all this, her strawberry pink hair askew in sleepless sorrow, dark bags under her blood-shot eyes, a simple cotton kimono draped loosely around her frame. She squeezed her eyelids shut, fed up with her life and this mindless charade, as the ' _THRICE DAMNED'_ sunlight brutally pounded at her skull, tearing away at her sanity. She was fairly certain she looked like a nightmarish Edo Tensei caught in Tsukuyomi.

Yet, there was someone who looked far worse. Hinata Hyuga stood surrounded by the members of her clan, tears pooling in her eyes. She looked as if the Shinigami himself had cut her heart out and then feasted on her innards. Not a hair was out of place. Not a speck of dust tarnished her robes, and yet, the expression on her face spoke of an indescribable agony far greater than anything a futile façade of sophistication and reserve could conceal.

If Sakura were cruel, she would've taken some pleasure in knowing there was someone who suffered just as much, if not more than she did.

But Sakura was not cruel. She might never have been close to Hinata- they hadn't exchanged more than a few words in all their time serving Konoha- but she could feel her pain. She was a passenger in the same rudderless ship after all: sucked into a wild whirlpool of hopelessness and hate, sinking as wave after wave of emotion and angst smashed into the brittle hull; frantic tears turning the sea water saltier as tempestuous thunder-clouds of doom and gloom rained fire and fury upon the wrecked mast.

So, it was out of the goodness of her heart that she made her way to the Hyuga after the ceremony ended.

Or perhaps, it was because she craved the company of someone who could offer more than empty platitudes in consolation and about her team's heroics. They all omitted Sasuke. She had lost her team, and Hinata her crush (but to the Hyuga, Naruto was far, far more than just a fond memory of a troubled childhood), and her cousin. Misery loved company, and Sakura Haruno- morose and miserable- sought out the one person even worse affected than her.

"Will you walk with me, Hinata?"

Hinata started, spinning around wildly, nearly shrugging off the gentle arm Sakura had placed on her shoulder. She cowered under her touch, meek as a mouse, her face colouring.

"Sa….Sakura? I- I…"

Sakura let her features smooth over into a smile. Or tried to, anyway. Her facial muscles twitched, as if trying to express some long forgotten emotion. She had no doubt it seemed forced.

"I want someone to keep me company. Do you mind?"

A wave of nervousness seemed to wash over the Hyuga. "I'm…I'm not sure… I'll be good company…" she stuttered uncertainly.

Sakura grasped her arm, gently pulling her along. "Rubbish," she said, "you're just the person I need to talk to." she turned, eyeing Hinata with something akin to desperation "Please, Hinata?"

Hinata caved in. She bowed her head and nodded.

The emotion behind Sakura's smile was a lot more genuine this time. She hoped it would be the beginning of a tentative friendship.

* * *

The desert was vast. It stretched in all directions, as far as the eye could see and beyond. As still as a void. Barren. Burning. The sand hotter than the vengeful flames from the maw of a raging dragon. A sentient behemoth of thirst and death from which the weary wanderer had no escape.

The desert was an unforgiving mistress. It brought nothing but famine and poverty, and gave nothing but a cold, soul crushing burial in return; leaving Sunagakure's hopes to starve and rot so far away from civilization.

But to Sabaku No Gaara, the desert was the mother he never had. The sand lovingly surrounded him as he sat atop a rock; caressing his hair, trying to wipe away the vacant expression on his face. It curled around him protectively as the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears.

"You've been out here forever, Gaara. The village needs its Kage."

He sighed. Temari meant well. His sister had always worried about him, even after he had become Kazekage. Her words were less due to concern about the village and more out of familial affection. It hadn't been always like that. He had been ruthless and sub-human at a time. Thirsting for battle, thirsting for the blood of enemy and ally alike. He had lived to hear the sickeningly sweet squelch of mangled flesh and crushed bone as the desert, at his behest, snuffed out their lives, uncaring of the blood curdling screams and the frightened pleas. He had lived to 'prove his existence'.

He had been a monster.

And then, one chance encounter with Naruto Uzumaki had changed all that. The familial affection was his first friend's gift to him. It was a debt he could never repay. But he had been willing to try. He had been willing to live by Naruto's ideals of peace and understanding and help him usher in a golden age for the shinobi population and the elemental nations.

It was a moot point now.

"Temari, Kankuro. It is…refreshing to see you."

"You have a duty towards the village, Gaara. You can't sit here and mope when there are things to be done. Let Konoha take care of their dead. We have our own men and women to bury." said Kankuro.

They hadn't been close when they were children. But he was just as close with his other sibling now. They had come to respect each other and they would gladly die for one another. As they nearly had, before Naruto and his team had saved them, again.

"I do not need to be reminded of my duty, Kankuro."

They sat by him, Temari on the left, Kankuro on the right, exchanging worried glances in silent conversation. They probably feared he would regress to the blood lust he had shown when he was Shukaku's jinchuuriki.

"The desert is beautiful today," he said wistfully. "It stretches so far, to infinity, like a bond across lifetimes. It stands so firm while its children die. It stoically bears their spite and their thirst, seemingly uncaring, while it weeps on the inside, thirsting for their love. The desert never forgets its bonds and its duty."

They stared at him in confusion. He had never been one for philosophical thoughts.

"Come," he said, rising to his feet. "You were right. Let Konoha bury their dead. My love for Naruto shall never go away, but, in his absence, I shall be the desert."

* * *

Hinata wondered if she had made the right choice.

Sakura hadn't spoken a word since she had consented to walk with her. They had made their way through the crowd, past Ichiraku's ramen( Hinata's heart had tightened painfully) and past the academy and the Hokage's office( it had taken all her restraint to not make a spectacle of herself again), walking in silence till they were scaling the steps to the Hokage's monument.

"Um…..Sakura…" she began. Sakura raised a quizzical eyebrow. Hinata gulped. "Why…. Why are we….."

"I thought it'd be nice for us to have some privacy," said Sakura. "As I said, I wish to talk. And I don't know who else to turn to."

That sounded ominous. But she nodded anyway. It wasn't as if anything Sakura could say would bring her more pain than the events over the previous fortnight.

They were at the top now, staring at the village from atop the Yondiame's smiling bust. _'Naruto- kun would've been a better Hokage than his father,'_ she thought, furiously rubbing her face as her eyes stung. _'He was so kind and caring and gentle. He would've brought peace to the elemental nations. He would've finally realized my love and-'_

Her lower lip quivered as she felt her eyes begin to moisten. Sakura's voice cut through her musings.

"You loved him, didn't you?"

Hinata started.

"Ah…N..Neji Nii-san meant a lot-"she said hesitantly. Sakura smiled. It was a kind smile, as gentle as a mother looking at her child in affection.

"I meant Naruto, Hinata."

Her throat went dry. _She knew!_ But how could she have known? How could anyone have-

"We all knew, Hinata. It was obvious to all of us, except, well….Naruto." Sakura rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

She held her head in her hands.

"I'll…never get to tell him. I'll never know if he cared, if-" her voice was shaking now. It was taking every last bit of Hyuga reserve to not break down.

"Don't say that," said Sakura, hugging her, "He might not have known, but he cared. He always did. For every single one of us. He loved you, he just didn't know it himself. But given time, it would've got through to that thick skull of his."

Hinata couldn't help it. She couldn't hold herself back any longer. Not with Sakura sounding so gentle and with her hands running through her hair, massaging her scalp. There, on top of the Hokage monument, next to the spot where she had imagined Naruto kun's bust would be built when he took the hat, she fell to her knees and wailed in anguish.

* * *

"I've informed the council of my decision to resign," she held up a weary, wavering hand, her untamed blonde pigtails furiously whipping in the wind, her breath smelling of sake and her eyes shimmering in sorrow.

He felt his protests die a horrible death, unsaid.

"This village has given me nothing but misery. I intend to leave. I'm no longer fit to govern. Hell, I no longer wish to govern. I never did….I never did." Her voice fell with each word, the tone going from assertive to pleading. She sounded like a woman lost in a world of woe. She had lost a child a fortnight ago. A child she hadn't birthed. A child that wasn't her own but that had been her sunshine, nonetheless. She had loved him as she would her own blood.

He could sympathize. He was certain she had been looking forward to the day she would proudly place the hat on Naruto's crown. The brat would laugh and call her 'baa-chan', while making snide comments about her age. She had no doubt planned that scene down to the last detail, including chasing him around the village, uprooting trees and throwing them at him as he ran around cackling like a maniac. And then, they would finally stop and she'd hug him and finally tell him that he was the son she'd never had. That she was proud of him. That he finally understood responsibility and sacrifice. That he was finally Hokage and that she believed in him; that she always had and she always would.

Yes, Kakashi Hatake could sympathize because he felt the same about Naruto. His Sensei's son had a way of worming his way into people's hearts. He had made his way deep into their hearts, and then broken every single one of them by going and dying for his crazy ideals.

He could sympathize, maybe even empathize, but he had to talk Senju Tsunade out of this madness. For Konoha's sake, if not his own.

"Hokage- Sama-"

"I'm no longer your Hokage, Kakashi," she said, "perhaps I should be calling you that instead?"

He felt a chill sweep through his bones and it had nothing to do with the wind outside.

"I'm too old, Tsunade. Too old and too broken."

"You're thirty-two," She said dryly, "And when has Konoha ever had a sane Kage?"

That wouldn't work, then. So he decided to tell her the truth.

"Tsunade, this is insanity," he began, "I no longer have the sharingan. I'm just another Jonin. You're our only S rank shinobi. We have no other shinobi of note. If you leave-"

"Then you'll have to get off your arse and do something about it." She said harshly.

He sighed. He didn't want to do this, but she left him no choice.

"What would Naruto say? And what about Jiraya? And Dan and Nawaki? You disrespect their sacrifices by deserting us at a time of dire need."

Tsunade laughed. It was a hollow, bitter sound, born of despair and resentment.

"Well, we'll never find out, will we? They're all dead."

He hung his head in defeat. It seemed there was no changing her mind. But perhaps-

""Naruto believed in his ideal till the very end. He believed he could redeem Sasuke. If that is indeed your decision, then my first decision as Hokage will be to draft Sasuke into Konoha's ranks. I will hand him the hat after he has proved his loyalty."

He watched as her face rapidly purpled, spite and hatred warring for dominance, her beautiful visage twisting into an ugly expression of pure loathing. She brought her fist down on the table, smashing it to itty bitty little pieces in the process; wooden splinters flying around the room as if to flee her wrath.

"You dare, Kakashi?" she thundered, "You dare talk of that monster in front of me? Do not tempt me to go down into the dungeons and turn that shit stain into a fucking smear on the wall!" she was frothing at the mouth now, her voice rising with each word. "What kind of Sensei are you, you heartless bastard? That Uchiha killed your Sensei's son! Your student! He killed Naruto. He….. he-"

"Yes, and I believe that 'Uchiha' is my student too."

He had spent years in the ANBU, as a squad member, as a captain, and as the very best in the business. He had honed his skills over a decade. Kakashi Hatake, formerly Kakashi of the Sharingan, was a prodigy even amongst prodigies.

It took every bit of that prodigious talent to keep him alive. That, and his incredible reflexes, as Tsunade swung wildly at him. If she had landed that blow, he had no doubt Konoha would be short another Jonin.

"YOU FUCKING-"

"Tsunade!" he shouted, as he nimbly dodged another blow. This one would've sent him all the way to Iwa if it had connected. "Get a grip over yourself! You're leaving me with no other choice! I don't want to either, but if you leave-"

She stopped mid swing, breathing heavily, ample bosom heaving, her expression furious.

"You have ten seconds, Kakashi. Ten seconds to explain yourself."

He held up his hands in a placatory motion.

"Konoha will be vulnerable in your absence, Tsunade. You'll bring war upon us if you leave. It's not what Naruto would've wanted. That isn't what he died for. I have no intention of letting Sasuke go, but you are making it incredibly hard for me. If I were to be Hokage, I would have to prioritize Konoha's protection over my own preferences. "

She looked at him through narrowed eyes.

"Fine," she huffed out at last, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "But I'm resigning nonetheless. I'll stay on as a medic. Don't ask me for anything more than that. I have no desire to bear the burdens of this accursed hat again."

He nodded. He didn't wish to be Hokage, but given the state of mind Tsunade was in, this was probably the best he could hope for.

"Oh, and Kakashi, I want that bastard executed."

He didn't need to ask her who she was referring to. His life was such a Goddamn fuck up. Sighing, he nodded. He didn't have a choice in the matter and a stable Tsunade was far more preferable to an unstable Sasuke. He'd have to call a council meeting next week. She probably hadn't done it already due to the possibility of her being outvoted. With him on her side though-

He sighed again. It seemed Sasuke's fate was sealed.


	4. Chapter 4

On the fourteenth of April, Kakashi Hatake( Jonin, former ANBU captain, war hero), student to the late Minato Namikaze- the Yondiame Hokage- and sensei to the iconic Team 7- Naruto Uzumaki( regrettably deceased), Sakura Haruno(alive, but somewhat dead on the inside) and Sasuke Uchiha( alive, but soon to be dead, both on the inside and the outside barring a miracle)- was made Rokudiame Hokage.

There were no celebrations and no grand speeches. No overflowing crowds witnessed him take the mantle. The only witnesses in fact, were a sour faced council, a drunk and abusive Tsunade, a wheelchair ridden Maito Gai theatrically weeping about being outdone by his 'hip and cool' rival and an indifferent Sakura.

He had no Jonin of note to rely on. They had lost more than half their forces in the war. The reconstruction of the village after Pein's invasion had taken a heavy financial toll. Kumogakure was pulling in twice the contracts and mission requests they were. It had all gone south over the previous two years, culminating in the death of their jinchuuriki and the imprisonment- pending council verdict- of the sole survivor of Konoha's most prestigious clan.

As the Sage of Six Paths would no doubt gently put it: Konoha was fucked.

Sasuke Uchiha, of course, was blissfully unaware of all this. He had bigger problems to deal with.

_DRIP-DRIP-DRIP_

He snarled, bringing up his right arm to cover his ears.

_DRIP-DRIP-DRIP_

He twisted around and buried his face into the cot, drawing the blanket over him, gritting his teeth in frustration.

_DRIP-DRIP-DRIP_

"Fucking stop that!" he screamed into the silence.

There was a leak in the plumbing. It hadn't been there when he first woke, but the lousy trickle of leaking water had made itself known over the previous week. And it was beginning to get on his nerves. Every time he closed his eye, the water would turn into blood and the darkness would morph into Naruto's face, contorted in horror and agony during his final moments. The _bloo-…_ water, fucking water, wouldn't stop. He wanted it to stop. He needed to sleep.

_DRIP-DRIP-DRIP_

"Rabbit! Oye, Rabbit!" he hollered, "Get that thing to stop!"

A muffled snort reached his ears through the door. Eagle and Rabbit- those stupid fucks- seemed to find the entire thing hilarious. The first time he'd told, no ordered, Eagle to have it fixed, the ANBU had graced him with a sadistic grin and punched him in the nose. He didn't wish to ask again, but the ominous trickle pounded away at his skull like cannon fire. It was worth enduring a few more blows to get that thing to stop.

"Rabbit! Rabbit, you hear me? Fix that bloody pipe!"

There was a momentary pause. For just a moment, Sasuke dared to hope. And then the dull trickle turned into a thunderous roar as Rabbit rhythmically brought down his baton on the locked door, wood crashing against wood in a diabolic, delirium inducing drum beat.

It was louder. It was messier. Yet, Sasuke drifted off into fitful sleep, a small smirk on his face, thankful for the horrendous sound that didn't remind him of blood and broken promises.

* * *

Every step was hesitant. Every weary footfall that rebounded off the weathered stairs echoed reluctance. Down and down he went, away from daylight, into the somber night-like underground. The cheery sun was replaced by the cynical leers of oil lamps and the ghastly shadows they brought along.

The shadows seemed to snarl and sneer as he moved, calling him a gutless loser that turned everything he touched to ash. Faces flashed through his mind, their eyes glassy in death, their lips wide open in accusation: first Obito-and all the deaths he had caused- then Rin, then Minato Sensei…then Naruto. All his fault. Every last one of them. He wrote apologies to them in his dreams, every letter written in red, each syllable coated in crimson. But it was not enough. It never was. And it never would be. The demons in his mind roared in triumph, urging him to end it all. To go the same way his father had. To pull out a kunai, slice open his throat and let the blood run free, each drop a fatal, futile lament of failure.

The ANBU snapped to attention, bowing respectfully. Kakashi pushed away his morbid thoughts. There would be enough time to agonize over his follies in the guilt-ridden confines of his mind when he visited their graves. He had no time for such thoughts at the moment. He had a far greater headache to deal with.

Namely, Sasuke Uchiha. Prodigy. Renegade. The scummy serpent that had slain his reincarnated brother. The student he had once taught and thereafter wished he never had.

"At ease, Eagle," he said. The ANBU immediately straightened. "How is the prisoner doing?"

"He is well fed, Hokage-sama. He refuses to bathe or clean himself. He refuses to let us clean his room. His behavior is uncouth and unstable, and he has made several threats to my person. We have been diligently guarding him around the clock."

Kakashi nodded. That sounded like Sasuke, alright.

"Anything else?"

Eagle shifted uncomfortably. "He seems feverish, Hokage-sama. Yet, he refuses to be treated. He refuses to let our medics change his bandages. He has nightmares, we think. Rabbit and I hear him moan and cry every time he falls asleep."

Kakashi could tell the ANBU was not being entirely honest. He suspected they hadn't bothered offering Sasuke medical attention. That being said, he doubted if Sasuke would've accepted anyway. The Uchiha were known for their pride and his former student was a chip off the old block.

"Very well, I would like to meet him." he said.

The first thing that hit him when he entered the cell was the insufferable stench. He had been to better smelling morgues and better scented battlefields. It was as if a dozen corpses had voided their bowels and then been left to rot for a decade in a ten by ten stone cell. It was all he could do to avoid gagging at the reek. Holding his breath, he ran through a few hand-seals and let loose a cascade of water. It swirled around the room, washing away the muck and cleansing the filth. A wind jutsu took care of the smell. It wasn't nearly enough, but it would do.

"I've been telling them to do that for ages," a hoarse rasp drew his attention to the sole occupant of the room.

To say Sasuke looked terrible would be an understatement. A single eye stared back at him, smoldering in fever and delirium. He seemed less flesh and muscle, and more bone. A moth eaten blanket was wrapped around his quivering form, his gaunt frame thinner than a twig. His once well groomed hair was a frazzled mess and a splotchy, spotty beard- untamed and filthy- grew around his jaw-line. The rags he wore barely clung onto his body, and his skin had taken on an unhealthy, distinctly greenish pallor. Sweat coated his sunken face( or what Kakashi could see of it anyway) and flecks of dried blood crusted a nose twisted at an odd angle. The bandages Sakura had so lovingly wrapped around his fallen form had been reduced to discoloured, grime coated monstrosities- bits of dirtied and pus-infected flesh showing.

"You look good, Kakashi." he croaked, voice sandpaper-rough due to disuse. He attempted to smirk and failed miserably.

"They tell me you've been refusing all their courtesies." said Kakashi. The excuse sounded hollow to his own ears.

Sasuke chuckled. It was a terrible thing, metallic and grating, like two coins being frantically rubbed together.

"Yes, because…" he elapsed into a coughing fit, "because it's in my best interest to be treated like a bloody harlot from the brothels of Oto."

"You've been known to be petulant on occasion."

Sasuke opened his mouth to respond… and then stopped. His gaze turned to the hat Kakashi was wearing. For a moment, he stared at it in incomprehension. Then his eye darkened. His hand twitched, as if to knock it off Kakashi's head.

And then the moment was gone. His face eased back into an attempted smirk.

"The Hokage himself has come to visit this lowly prisoner? I'm flattered."

Kakashi ignored the jibe.

"Is there something I can get you, Sasuke?"

Sasuke cocked his head to one side, as if deep in thought.

"Freedom would be nice," he began, "but failing that, I'd settle for clothes, a shower, a kunai and a cup of sake."

"A kunai? And you don't drink."

Sasuke gestured to the dirty tourniquet on what was left of his left arm.

"I need to cut away the infected areas before they get any worse," he explained. "And I do now, Kakashi. You lot have turned me into an alcoholic. And I'll need a drink or two to deal with Eagle. Could you get me a new warden? Preferably one with a brain a touch bigger than his inch long cock."

Kakashi cleared his throat. Sasuke was never this crass, but he supposed three weeks in a stuffy cell with a couple of hostile ANBU for company couldn't have done his already fragile mind any favours.

"That won't be needed," he said. "The council meets tomorrow to decide your fate. You'll either be shifted elsewhere or executed."

He had expected Sasuke to rage against that. The Sasuke he knew five years ago would've spit in his face and gone on an hour long rant about his heritage as an Uchiha.

He hadn't expected Sasuke's smirk to widen.

"What happened to saving me, then?" he sneered, "what happened to 'Oh Sasuke- Kun, I love you!' and 'I'll drag you back to Konoha, you bastard?' All I wanted was to be left alone, to mourn my dead in peace. Your lot ruined that. You took away my family, you took away my brother. And now that I've won you your war, you intend to take away my life."

"You killed Naruto. And Sakura still loves you, Sasuke. I meant every word I said to you before you ran off to fight Naruto. She'll probably be the only one that defends you tomorrow. And if we decide to execute you, she'll be the only one that weeps over your corpse."

Sasuke looked away.

"The dobe knew what he was getting into," he said mildly. "As for Sakura, should I love her the same way you loved Rin, Kakashi?"

Kakashi recoiled, as if struck.

"Rin was-"

Sasuke laughed.

"What? A team mate that loved you, to whom you wouldn't give the time of the day? That sounds familiar, doesn't it? You're such a filthy hypocrite, sensei," he spat, adding an extra layer of sarcasm to the 'sensei'. "Telling others to do what you never bothered doing. Perhaps, I should learn from you and run a chidori through your precious Sakura."

His throat went dry. He didn't wish to be reminded of everyone he had failed. He…he needed to get out of here. He smoothed out his coat as he stood, trying to tune out Sasuke's words and that goddamn smug smirk on his face.

"I'll send down clothes and a medic," he said, "and tell them to let you shower. Is there anything you want me to say on your behalf at tomorrow's meeting?"

"Yes. Fuck you, and fuck Konoha."

"Goodbye, Sasuke."

And Kakashi hurried out of the room, haunted by his past and the ghosts of those long dead; Sasuke's smirk following him all the way out the door.

* * *

Ai Yotsuki wasn't a patient man. He wasn't a good man either, but then which Kage was? Many would call him a monster. One among the many that had hacked and slashed their way to the prominent, blood spattered pages of shinobi history. He had risen to power leaving behind a trail of bloodied and broken corpses over the course of two wars. A ruthless fiend amongst mere mortals. Kidnapping bloodline wielders. Turning innocent children into broodmares for the benefit of the village. Wreaking havoc and war in the name of progress and ambition. He had slain little children and slaughtered entire clans without second thought. He had laughed and spat in the faces of those that begged for mercy. He had plotted and schemed and worked day and night to turn Kumo into the strongest of the shinobi villages.

He was a patriot who believed that the only alliance that truly existed was between a Kage and his people. Everything else was merely a tool to be exploited for progress.

He loved Kumogakure. And Kumogakure loved their Raikage.

But the fact remained that Ai Yotsuki wasn't a patient man. And it seemed to Darui that having to wait for Bee-sama was giving him a goddamn headache.

"Where is that fool?" Ai bellowed, slapping his hand on the table, causing it to groan under the strain. It was a hand that had made and broken nations; brokered alliances and butchered rebels en-masse. A hand that respected power and scorned weakness. A hand that had, on occasion, added a messy scrawl to the flowery words of peace and then wielded the figurative scythe that spattered blood all over the signed peace treaty.

No, Ai Yotsuki wasn't a good man. But he was a great Kage.

"He should be here any moment now, boss." drawled Darui.

"I swear to the sage I'm going to iron claw him when he shows up!" growled Ai. Darui sighed. For all his accomplishments, the Raikage could be such a baby when it came to Bee.

"He said something about serious rap practice yesterday, Raikage-sama," said Cee. "about more shows during a time of peace or something."

Darui ran a hand through his hair as Ai's eyes threatened to bulge out their sockets. Cee just had to go and make it worse.

"And you didn't stop him?" howled Ai. "It's as if every single one of my men is useless."

Whatever Cee was going to say was interrupted as the door burst open.

"Yo-yo! Bee's here, never fear! What you gotta say big bro that couldn't wait till I went full pro, yo?"

Bee stood at the door, with his hands outstretched, his glasses glinting in the sunlight. The skies darkened. The sage wept in agony. Crickets chirped in the distance. Ai seemed torn between having a heart attack and bashing his brother's skull in.

There were times when Darui wondered if he had made the right decision in becoming a Kumo shinobi. This was one of them.

"Have a seat, Bee-sama," he said eventually. "We were just going to get started."

"What on, my brother's little man? Say it quick for I have a hundred waiting fans!"

…Bee made that sound dirty.

"YOU IDIOT-"began the Raikage, his voice nearly shrill enough to shatter glass.

"It's on Konoha and their dull prospects compared to our bright ones." Darui cut in. He couldn't let this charade go on forever. Bee's playful demeanour instantly evaporated. He ambled over to the vacant chair and set himself down.

"I'm listening." he said.

Ai seemed to have regained his composure. He cleared his throat.

"We are the only shinobi village with a jinchuuriki," he began, "Kiri is bankrupt and Suna mired in a perpetual state of poverty. Onoki is ageing and Iwa have no other S ranked shinobi. And Konoha just lost their jinchuuriki. The Uchiha, I've heard, has been imprisoned. They've gone from being the strongest of the five shinobi villages to the weakest. For the first time in their history, they have no more than one prominent S ranked shinobi. I say we take advantage of this."

"And how are we going to do that?" asked Bee, a frown on his usually care-free face. "Do you wish to start another war?"

Ai shook his head. "While I take great pleasure in slugging it out on the battle-field, that's not what I meant." he said.

"The boss means territorial expansion," said Darui. "With Konoha too weak to prevent us from doing anything, we could very well march all the way from here to Taki and claim everything outside fire country as our own. We have the military might and the financial prowess to do that."

"And what if Konoha interfere?" questioned Bee. "What if the other hidden villages form a coalition in the name of peace to prevent us from doing that?"

Ai snorted.

"You might have lived through three wars, little brother," he said, "but your naivety still astounds me. What peace do you speak of? We are shinobi. The shinobi alliance to battle Madara and the Akatsuki was a temporary measure at best; a tacit understanding to work together to prevent annihilation. Or did you really expect Kumo and Konoha to work together after the war? Or Konoha and Iwa?" he shook his head. "There's too much bad blood between the villages to ever truly come together in a lasting alliance."

"You wish to gamble away our future and our economic progress on this hypothesis of yours?" asked Bee. "Think about it big bro. What if they do come together? We might be strong, certainly, but even we couldn't withstand the combined might of four shinobi nations. Or even three for that matter. Konoha are already allied with Suna. What if Kiri were to violate their neutrality to back them in a war? Would the fence sitter side with us? Or would we be reduced to facing three nations at the same time? Whatever the case, the elemental nations would bleed and we'd be set back a few years in terms of progress. Are a few measly territories worth the risk of another great war?"

"That's not what the boss is suggesting," said Darui. "He wishes for us to send emissaries to Konoha to act as scouts and estimate how far they've fallen. This is an opportunity, however. They have never been this weak in their history."

Bee sighed.

"Very well then," he said, pushing back his chair and getting back on his feet, "have them scouted. But I hope you know what you're doing, big bro. This could turn into a catastrophe if you aren't careful."

And with that he left the room, leaving the rest of the occupants deep in thought.

* * *

She had been invited to the council meeting. _As a war hero and a member of team seven,_ Kakashi had said. They were gathered to decide the fate of Sasuke Uchiha. She had come hoping for clemency. She had come, hoping, that Kakashi sensei and Tsunade shishou would let bygones be bygones and help rehabilitate Sasuke-kun. She loved him regardless of his crimes. It sickened her that she was willing to overlook Naruto's death and Sasuke's growing instability, but it was what it was. She would beg for Naruto's forgiveness at the memorial later. But she couldn't let Sasuke die.

But now, as she observed Homura and Koharu- their faces taut and their lips drawn in a thin line- and Kakashi sensei-not one inch of his usual carefree self showing- and Tsunade shishou- her eyes harder than granite and her face filled with regret and loathing- she knew she faced an uphill battle.

"We are here," began Kakashi, "to decide the fate of Uchiha Sasuke, former genin of Konohagakure. Let it be noted that this council meeting is in session."

Shizune, who was sitting at the corner of the room and taking notes nodded.

"Dereliction of duty, abandonment of Konoha to apprentice under an S ranked missing nin, allying with the Akatsuki, infiltration of the five Kage summit, murder of a councilor cum acting Kage…murder of a teammate and Konoha's jinchuuriki… why are we even discussing this?" asked Koharu dryly.

"I agree. He deserves to be gutted and strung up from our watch towers as an example." said Homura.

"Is it decided then? Shall we have him executed?" asked Kakashi. Sakura could feel indignation rise within her. They weren't even giving him a trial. This entire thing was turning into a farce.

"Hokage- sama," she began, "you're all conveniently ignoring the fact that he is a war hero."

Homura turned to her, his beady eyes observing her like a hawk.

"He killed a war hero," he said. "That Uzumaki boy was your team mate, was he not, girl?"

She couldn't really deny that. "Sasuke- kun wasn't in the right state-"

"Sakura!" interrupted Tsunade harshly, "Leave behind your biases. If he was unstable enough to murder a man that called him a brother, then he is too unstable to be left alive."

No. No. This couldn't be happening. It…it was all a nightmare. She couldn't lose another team-mate. She couldn't let Sasuke-kun die. What he did was wrong but Naruto wouldn't want him dead. He…he would understand. There was a note of desperation in her voice when she next spoke.

"Kakashi- sensei, we would've all been dead if not for him. We have wronged him and the Uchiha. Aren't his actions at least understandable-"

Kakashi shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Sakura," he said, "But the Uchiha massacre has nothing to do with this. If that's all, shall we vote on the matter?"

The vote was called.

Four votes to one. Sakura felt her life and everything she'd held precious crumble to dust and turn to ash. Tears began to fall freely, unbidden.

Uchiha Sasuke was to be executed next morning.


End file.
